“John Brake, ex bank-manager,” answered Bryce promptly. “I know all about it. I've been deeply interested and concerned in his death. And I'll tell you why. I want to marry his daughter.” Glassdale turned and stared at his companion. “His daughter!” he exclaimed. “Brake's daughter! God bless my soul! I never knew he had a daughter!” It was Bryce's turn to stare now. He looked at Glassdale incredulously. “Do you mean to tell me that you knew Brake all those years and that he never mentioned his children?” he exclaimed. “Never a word of 'em!” replied Glassdale. “Never knew he had any!” “Did he never speak of his past?” asked Bryce. “Not in that respect,” answered Glassdale. “I'd no idea that he was--or had been--a married man. He certainly never mentioned wife nor children to me, sir, and yet I knew Brake about as intimately as two men can know each other for some years before we came back to England.” Bryce fell into one of his fits of musing. What could be the meaning of this extraordinary silence on Brake's part? Was there still some hidden secret, some other mystery at which he had not yet guessed? “Odd!” he remarked at last after a long pause during which Glassdale had watched him curiously. “But, did he ever speak to you of an old friend of his named Ransford--a doctor?” “Never!” said Glassdale. “Never mentioned such a man!” Bryce reflected again, and suddenly determined to be explicit. “John Brake, the bank manager,” he said, “was married at a place called Braden Medworth, in Leicestershire, to a girl named Mary Bewery. He had two children, who would be, respectively, about four and one years of age when his--we'll call it misfortune--happened. That's a fact!” “First I ever heard of it, then,” said Glassdale. “And that's a fact, too!” “He'd also a very close friend named Ransford--Mark Ransford,” continued Bryce. “This Ransford was best man at Brake's wedding.” “Never heard him speak of Ransford, nor of any wedding!” affirmed Glassdale. “All news to me, doctor.” “This Ransford is now in practice in Wrychester,” said Bryce. “And he has two young people living with him as his wards--a girl of twenty, a boy of seventeen--who are, without doubt, John Brake's children. It is the daughter that I want to marry.” Glassdale shook his head as if in sheer perplexity. “Well, all I can say is, you surprise me!” he remarked. “I'd no idea of any such thing.” “Do you think Brake came to Wrychester because of that?” asked Bryce.